


Pomegranates and Petals

by Astr



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017), Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Greek Mythology AU, Healthy Relationships, LeFou is the child of a spring spirit, M/M, Other, Stafou, Stanley is the god of the dead and especially the victimized, belle and adam are here too!, gafou, gastafou, gaston is the god of the hunt and male beauty, honestly I just hope this is a decent premise, probably smut in later chapters, tom and dick are pals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 11:56:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12911439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astr/pseuds/Astr
Summary: An extreme variation of one of the greatest love stories, involving a trio that needs more love.--"LeFou," Gaston drawls in that husky-yet-bored way of his, "I don't know what I'd do without you."LeFou agrees, it would be bad. Possibly end-of-the-world bad.So it's very unfortunate when he finds himself suddenly falling into the earth.





	1. As The World Falls Down

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is mostly just to test the waters and see if anyone's interested. I love this story, and the sources it comes from. I hope everyone else enjoys this!

It was with a reverent awe that the cloaked figure beheld the spirit. Wild and smiling, long curls bouncing as the son of Springtime frolicked merrily in the flowers, his song and dance creating life in the meadow, as befit his nature. Flowers bloomed at his bare footfalls, vines curled about trees and rocks to the tune of his song. Life itself seemed to rejoice in the merriment. It was quite possibly the purest scene the figure had ever witnessed. And with that purity there was a touch of sadness. The young man-spirit was not alone, but not joined in his merrymaking and awakening dance. He was watched by a man in red, expression bored (nearly angry) at the apparent waste of his time.

It simply wasn't right, the figure concluded. The spirit-man, the beautiful dancer, the pinnacle of all things good and wholesome, deserved a partner who would dance with him, would laugh sweetly and hold him close. Not simply watch with a face that, while terribly handsome, was known and feared throughout both the Pantheon and the realm of mortals. Some way, somehow, this fair youth had gained the companionship of none other than Gaston, the bloody hunter who was feared by many and respected by all. The simple happiness in the dance and lack of care in his companion's presence could mean only one thing:

That was LeFou. Gaston's most loyal friend, the only one in any world who could back him down from one of his infamous rages.

Which meant the figure was in an awful lot of trouble now. He silently flitted through the trees at his back and into his own realm, dark and cold and lonely. As he removed his cloak, Stanley wondered just what he was going to do now. He was smitten. And the object of his sudden and intense longing was possibly the worst possible choice for himself. It may have seemed contradictory that the God of Death was at odds with the God of War, but that's simply how it was. Nothing personal (at least, not prior to this) and neither had directly provoked the other, but Stanley and Gaston had always had a relationship fraught with tension and quiet "I-can't-stand-him's" to their subordinates.

And now Stanley was contemplating how best to woo and win Gaston's oldest companion. It would have to be quick, he decided, and entirely unexpected. There would certainly be some distress, some confusion on behalf of his intended, but that he was certain he could smooth out. In fact, that was almost inevitable. Watching LeFou, he had felt something he'd not experienced in a million lifetimes: hope. Hope that he would not remain alone in his eternity, hope he could make his realm something worthy of joy, not of sorrow. Hope that there could be a light in his darkness.

His feelings spread to his servants and subjects, who collectively began to feel happiness at their master's sudden shift, and all immediately began preparing for the arrival of their new queen. Stanley wasn't thinking nearly so far ahead, but... that felt awfully nice to imagine. LeFou, smile on his lips and song in the air, bringing life to death, colour to this monochrome world, and growth to the land of nevermore.

Well, if his servants were ready to have LeFou, so was Stanley, and with that thought, he went topside to collect his new love.

\--

LeFou was done with his dance, and joined Gaston in the shade of the willow. The man in red looked bored to anyone else, but LeFou knew he was merely thoughtful. He did not ask what's on the hunter's mind. He had no need to. Gaston had never been one to keep his thoughts confined to his own head, and this was no exception. 

"LeFou," he drawled in his husky voice, normally cracked from shouting, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

LeFou smiled his gentle smile, the one only for his Gaston, and shook his head. He agreed it would be bad. Potentially end-of-the-world bad. He was and had always been that little voice in the back of the Hunter's mind, a physical conscience keeping him grounded and from picking needless fights (for the most part, on good days anyways). Without him, there would be no one to talk Gaston down from his outbursts of rage and righteous fury in the face of all who dared oppose him. Without LeFou, Gaston would almost certainly go wild, and everything would be dark and red with blood and warfare.

LeFou was essential to Gaston, just as Gaston was essential to LeFou.

And so, with no hesitation at all, LeFou replied, voice gentle as ever, "I'll never leave you."

He meant it with all of his heart and soul, and both men  knew it.

It was therefore incredibly inopportune for the ground to open, and the smaller man to plummet into the newly formed tear in the earth, falling down, down down.

Before Gaston could dive after, the hole sealed and all was as it had been previously, and yet absolutely nothing was the same. All that was left of his dearest friend and oldest companion was a black flower, blooming starlight and covered in thorns.


	2. How I Disappear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the Hero, the Hunter (the Lover?)
> 
> Dramatic Gaston is Dramatic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned, there is at least one F-Word, if that is offensive to anyone. If you want me to censor those, drop me a line.

 

  
LeFou was gone. Lefou was _gone_. Literally swallowed by the ground, like that was a thing that just happened to joyful Spring men and was in no way significant to _everything ever and especially now_. In his place was a flower. A _fucking flower_  as though somehow that could make up for the sudden loss of literally all joy in his entire life.

Gaston was frozen in place, entirely at a loss for any comprehensible language beyond animalistic growls permeating through his chest as he desperately sought something anything to prove his Fou was still there, that this was all some kind of horrendous joke, some prank and soon his darling darling friend would be in his arms again, giggling and apologizing for scaring him so badly. He'd sing a song then, soothe the Angry God into a nice nap.

No sign of him. No visible or invisible clue at what in the name of Tartarus had happened. Well, what had caused the happening to happen. No marks in the ground, no strange smells in the air, nothing. Nothing including no Fou, and already the meadow was starting to miss him. All the animals had vanished, the joyful presence no longer drawing them in. Gaston himself certainly didn't help. He was as far from gentle or nurturing as it got.

He began to have rational thoughts then, beyond the thrum of _where is he where did he go where is my Fou mon Clement where where where._  He moved as soon as he was physically able to, first his legs to walk over and then his waist to bend down, inspecting the small flower, the beautiful sign of loss. He debated plucking the thing, but didn't want to hurt it for fear of any links to his Fou, nor to lose his only marker of where his Fou had been, laughing and merry and nearly as perfect as he himself. The only one who deserved him.

This was the worst thing he could ever think of, and he could think of a great many terrible things. Being God of War, The Hunt, and other pleasant things did that to a man. Which was why he even had his Fou to begin with. To calm him, to keep him grounded and good, stop him from just ending it all for everyone. It was the greatest decision anyone had ever made, ever, undoubtedly.  
\--  
 _"You must be my friend."_  
 _The words had stung to say, pride sensitive even at this young age, but had been nothing but honest curiosity. No one was willingly friends with the boy of blood and burning, thus far the only child of the Sky God and his unfortunate Wife (though he already had many half-siblings of various species). The boy was lonely, and in his solitude he raged._

_So his mother, in her gentle way, had offered to find him a friend. Someone who had to stay with him no matter what, who couldn't run away. He agreed easily, not knowing any potential implications of such a gift._

_So had the small son of Springtime come into his life._  
\--  
Ever since that day, they had been inseparable. Despite the initial reluctance, his Fou had warmed up to him quickly, and began literally singing his praise at the end of their first together. No one knew him better, no one loved him more completely. And... as hard as it had been to admit at first, there was no one Gaston loved in this world or any as much as his Fou. He himself almost ranked 2nd place to the delightful embodiment of good.

LeFou calmed him. Cheered him up. _Completed_ him.  
Now he was missing.  
That wouldn't stand.

Gaston vowed then and there, as loud as he could, that he would not rest until his dearest friend was back in his presence. He would tear the Pantheon itself asunder if it meant the safe return of his Fou. He didn't care, he would do anything. Vow declared, he set off, red cloak flapping in the wind as he ran on the wind to the Pantheon.

It was Hero Time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe all the love my prologue received! Thank you guys so much!! I hope this one is as good as the first, and if you have any suggestions please feel free to comment (just be gentle I am a sensitive bean)!


	3. Make Up Your Mind/Catch Me I'm Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fou is falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this taking forever! I certainly didn't mean to make anyone wait for this, and I hope y'all still like the story.

Clement ( _LeFou_ to most, just _Fou_ to select few) was falling. He was used to falling, sure, being significantly more clumsy in his earlier years than most, but never quite this much. This was a lot of falling. An absurd amount of falling, in fact. _He should not have still been falling_. But, in this air time, the Spring spirit was able to reflect on all the life choices that led him here.

Most were good, he thought, like the choice to grow out his hair, or to sing to the flowers to help them bloom. Some were poor, like the choice he had made to try to climb that tree to get fresh honey the other day, or when he had eaten that very questionable stew. Very few were regrettable. Mostly, now that life as he knew it was reducible to the feeling of adrenaline as he flew down down down, he regretted that he had never really told his best friend how he felt.

He was deeply in love with Gaston. Of course he was. Anyone with functional eyes and male proclivities was. He was the pinnacle of masculinity: tall, sea-blue eyes, muscles in places most people didn't have places, coarse dark hair covering his body that Fou desperately wanted to run his fingers through, and proportions to die for. The man had a jaw that could cut glass and thighs that could crush rocks. If you asked an artist to paint the ideal man, it was inevitable they would give you a portrait of Gaston. But that was far from the only reason Fou loved him.

Gaston was smart, cunning, slick, quick, incredibly poignant when he wished to be (which was very rarely), and the man knew how to read people. Most people. At least, when he wanted to. Most of the time he was just content to go-fight-win and bask in the praises of mortals who saw him as some kind of war hero. Well, War Hero God. Gaston would never let anyone forget that part.

From the day they had been introduced, it had been very, very clear that Gaston was of the Pantheon. Even if Fou had not been introduced specifically to the God's parents (deities in their own right), there would have been no question to his lineage. His slight glow, the way he carried himself, his treatment of those below him in station. All pointed to the man's power. Clement had never felt even close to being Gaston's equal, which was fine. He simply had to be his friend. At least, that was the purpose he served.

Back in the beginning, that was his sole identity. Gaston's Best Friend was a badge he wore with reluctant duty then, but with utmost pride today. Gaston's Best Friend was important. Gaston's Best Friend was needed. Gaston's Best Friend was in a lot of trouble now.

But he was in luck! He could finally,  _finally_  make out the end of this descent! He would stop falling!

Oh. Oh no.

Well, this was all about to come to a very sudden end. He hoped he wouldn't hurt for more than a moment before death came. Actually, could he die? He wasn't entirely sure. This seemed a very inappropriate time to find out.

Very fortunately for all the Spring Spirits involved, the descent slowed, and rather than slamming into the ground, Clement merely floated down in a very gentle manner, like a very graceful feather daintily swaying in a breeze rather than a slightly pudgy person at terminal velocity. Fou touched down on the dark surface without so much as a stumble. He took a moment to look around and see absolutely nothing around him, and was suddenly very aware of how cold he was.

He had been dressed for a generously warm spring day, not... whatever this was (which was cold). He began to shiver, and shiver, and shiver. His goosebumps grew goosebumps and he found himself wishing he had paid attention to more than the cantor of Gaston's voice when the man had tried to teach him how to build a fire. Not that he had anything to use for such an endeavor. Splatting into a spring-shaped paste suddenly seemed much, much preferable to freezing to death in the middle of nowhere.

Just as he was about to start crying, the sounds of people reached him, and he really did start crying. He wasn't alone in this awful place! Maybe they knew how to get him back to Gaston! Or at least maybe where to get a blanket!

As the sounds grew louder, the Spring Spirit could make out two people: a tall man with golden hair and piercing grey eyes, and a shorter woman with dark brown curls and a kind face. The kinds of people he generally enjoyed being around (people that didn't immediately look like they were about to fight you).

The closer they got, the better Fou could tell that they were... singing? They were singing! Delightful! He loved singing! It was a sweet, somewhat sad song, but they didn't seem to hurt in the melody of it. It was honestly beautiful to him, and he relished listening to voices that weren't his own. Gaston, after all, was a War Hero, and War Heroes did not sing.

They got closer, and both had pleasant smiles, which turned to shock when they realized his condition.

"Sorry about that wait!" The man had a baritone that seemed to reach down to the ground, and made Fou shiver slightly more than he already was. It was a regal sound, one that commanded obedience. But also had a soft edge.

Fou merely shrugged. Or tried to.

"Oh you poor dear! You have no clothes on! Adam, darling, give this poor man your coat before he freezes to death!" The woman's voice was kind and gentle, but had that tiniest hint of being able to command a mountain to move and time to stand still. In this instance, it was very effective in getting Fou something covering his body and keeping a painful, frozen demise at bay.

It was really all quite pleasant, and then the poor Spring Spirit fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from Next To Normal:
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and for being patient with me!


End file.
